


Waiting for Goddam anything....

by RGmolpus



Series: Last Messages [9]
Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: Gen, snarf - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:21:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22910899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RGmolpus/pseuds/RGmolpus
Summary: Ezar's getting impatient
Series: Last Messages [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1213770
Comments: 9
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ArwenOak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArwenOak/gifts).



The bed is big.

Fancy, with a headboard filled with carvings.

Dorca's wife had bought it, had it made especially for the two of them, as newlyweds. 

Ezar inherited it, and has in his will that it should be burned. 

It was a monstrosity.

The carvings were well done; the wood, selected with care, the joinery was excellent. She had paid a lot, even now, for the bedframe.

But Ezar hated it.

All those little carvings, motionless squirrels, toads, deer - the wilderness hanging above his head.

So fancy; it gave him nightmares when the drugs hit.

Life gave him sufficient causes for nightmares; the bedframe seeding them was an overload.

Ezar was getting tired of being alive. He'd survived to damn much; so when would the angel of death; the Baba Yaga come for him?

Childhood tales among his cousins said that in their family a long-dead relative would appear to walk you away from life; to take you to - forever.

Someone you missed; someone you trusted, from your youth, often.

Where the hell were they?

Grump.

These damn'd doctors; chasing away his eventual easy with their drugs and machines and tubes and needles.

He'd thought that getting Aral to agree to do his duty, and be regent for little Gregor, would be the final cusp.

But no - here it was a week later and I'm still breathing.

Grump.

Two days ago, Vorparadjis and Piotr had visited him, Paradjis had snuck a bottle of brandy in - the rotgut he liked, but Ezar wanted his insides to rot.... to hell with the doctors!

They'd talked about the old times, about fighting the Cetas; kicking arse and forgetting names. The bottle had emptied, and the nurses returned to drive his friends away. 

That had been a good day.

He'd always wanted to die in peace (in pieces, if that's what it took. Ezar thought being killed by a grenade, a sudden explosion, must be the simplest, easiest death. One moment you're annoyed by the weight of your pack; the next, the load's gone, and it's off to forever. Maybe a stop to make an obscene gesture at your sergeant, or commander - that was a right every soldier had - but it's across the line so far you don't feel it.

Be his luck they'd bring in a crowd to see him croak.

Dammnit! Where's Amy! or Fredrick! - But I'm staying if its Yuri that shows up!

Ezar grumps in his sleep.


	2. Well, Finally!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezar wants to rest.
> 
> What he gets isn't really an Apostolic Succession, but it's close.

Sleep came with the clomping of heavy boots.

Which is to say, without grace.

But, it came.

Being asleep means you wake up.

This, Ezar didn't like.

Goddam nurse wanting a blood sample. Don't I have enough tubes in me to let you drain some without bothering me?

Maybe Yuri had a good idea, hanging those construction managers who fucked up Impsec HQ. Maybe order the flogging of a nurse or two, when they wake me up at 0300? Someone would add a tube to me after that, I bet.

Probably wouldn't be done...

Damnit.

Back to sleep... somehow.

snooze, damnit...snooze....

Huh? Wazzat? What do you want now, angel of waking me up too damn early?

"Hehe - always knew you were a softy, cousin!"

Yuri _YURI!?!?_ what the f--- is he doing here?

"Me, and a few others, Cousin - It's time for something special."

Ezar could see, somewhat, from his half-open eyes. The room was filled with people he knew; Aral and his wife, Delicate Princess Kareen, with her hands on the shoulders of her boy, Young Gregor. Over in the corner was Negri; silent, illuminated by a glow - of pain?

The doctor, several nurses... and... others.

Ezar's breathing sped... there was Yuri - and Dorca, and Vlad, and Xian???

Dorca leaned forward. "It's time for something special, Grandnephew... A special event. When you leave with us, your Grandson gets that something special we all had....I'd call it a curse, not a blessing; " Xian broke in "It's the worse gift ever to lay on someone; becoming Emperor. Better to remain a swineherd; the pigs like you when you bring them slop and fresh water." 

Other, dim shadows seemed to nod and agree with this.

'Am I going mad? Is my brain finally turning to mush?' came to him.

"Now, get up and get ready to leave - Emperor Ezar; your time is ended - and pass the duty on to your boy." It sounded like a benediction from one of those tiresome prelates of the old Ritual patriarchs... Did they practice talking that way looking in a mirror?

Dorca extended his hand; Ezar grasped it. It was a small tug, then he was standing at the side of his bed; free from all those dam'd tubes and catheters. He felt fresher; limber; awake. Yuri offered his hand; 'You never learned fast, old boy... but you've learned. Your time is over; now this little boy... well... it's his now.' 

Ezar felt something leave from him, a heaviness, like cloak had slipt to the floor. Looking at Gregor, with his mother's hands on his shoulders, he could see a light - or was it a color - wrap itself around the small form. 

====================

Xian stepped forward, and placed his hands on Gregor's head. 'He's got it, the poor lad. He's got it and it's now done. The chain is continued.' 

This tolled a stroke on a hidden bell; a vibration struck Ezar; blurring his vision. The shapes around him blurred; going faint; until only Dorca and Yuri remained. 

'It's his job now, ' said Yuri; 'May his time be better than mine.' 

Dorca pulled at the sleeve of Ezar's jacket. 'He has a good woman to guide him; and a wise man to protect his path. You, my boy, had neither. What happened later was your own fault; don't deny it.'

'Well... Yes, to be going.' Yuri took Ezar's other arm. A path had laid itself away from the room; a clearness in a haze. Ahead, clarity, to the sides, indistinction. Ezar felt pulled along the path; hurried by his companions.

"And if I don't go?"

Dorca showed concern. 'Places to be, things to see - else - being neither here nor there. Less than mist after a summer's morning.'

Ezar held motionless, against the push. 'Ever since Xav and Piotr came to me at Green Base, I've been pulled and pushed, driven by duty to everything. I think - not, now.'

And then there was nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> For ArwenOak... Who said she _so_ enjoys these stories....
> 
> (grin)
> 
> PTerry (Terry Pratchett) averred that the 'King' particle was a tachyon; able to move at more then the speed of light to transfer the royal essence at the moment of death, if not earlier.
> 
> Stands to reason that earlier monarchs would gather to mark someone new getting the 'Curse'; to welcome a new member of the club.


End file.
